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The Laughing Man
MaryHudsonsatdownbetweenmeandaboynamedEdgarsomething,whoseuncle’sbestfriendwasabootlegger.Wegaveheralltheroomintheworld.Thenthebusstartedoffwithapeculiar,amateur-likelurch.TheComanches,tothelastman,weresilent.
Onthewaybacktoourregularparkingplace,MaryHudsonleanedforwardinherseatandgavetheChiefanenthusiasticaccountofthetrainsshehadmissedandthetrainshehadn’tmissed;shelivedinDouglaston,LongIsland.TheChiefwasverynervous.Hedidn’tjustfailtocontributeanytalkofhisown;hecouldhardlylistentohers.Thegearshiftknobcameoffinhishand,Iremember.
Whenwegotoutofthebus,MaryHudsonstuckrightwithus.I’msurethatbythetimewereachedthebaseballfieldtherewasoneveryComanche’sfaceasome-girls-just-don’t-know-when-to-go-homelook.Andtoreallytopthingsoff,whenanotherComancheandIwereflippingacointodecidewhichteamwouldtakethefieldfirst,MaryHudsonwistfullyexpressedadesiretojointhegame.Theresponsetothiscouldn’thavebeenmoreclean-cut.WherebeforeweComancheshadsimplystaredatherfemaleness,wenowglaredatit.Shesmiledbackatus.Itwasashadedisconcerting.ThentheChieftookover,revealingwhathadformerlybeenawell-concealedflairforincompetence.HetookMaryHudsonaside,justoutofearshotoftheComanches,andseemedtoaddresshersolemnly,rationally.Atlength,MaryHudsoninterruptedhim,andhervoicewasperfectlyaudibletotheComanches."ButIdo,"shesaid.
